Enter the flames.

Temple Guard are a UK-based vegan metallic hardcore and metalcore band from Nottingham, England, with roots in the UK hardcore scene and connections to former members of xREPENTANCEx. Their sound draws heavily from the darker side of 1990s edge-metal and metallic hardcore, taking obvious inspiration from bands like Arkangel, Morning Again, and Earth Crisis while injecting the material with a more modern abrasive weight.

On Citadel in Flames, that combination works particularly well because Temple Guard aren't relying entirely on heaviness. The record is built around atmosphere, tension, political anger, and physical impact. There are massive breakdowns and crushing riffs throughout, but the band also understands that what happens before the breakdown can be just as important as the breakdown itself.

The opening of “Evisceration (Intro)” immediately establishes that philosophy. Eerie samples, ringing guitars, deep bass, and slow-moving riffs create the feeling that something ugly is approaching. It isn't simply an intro designed to waste a minute before the “real” music starts. It establishes the world of the album and gives everything that follows a darker context.

That atmosphere continues into “Blood Makes The Rain Fall,” where Temple Guard immediately start showing how effective their rhythm section can be. The guitars are sharp and distorted, the drums sound incredibly deep, and the low-end presence gives the track a genuinely physical quality. The vocals also bring plenty of variety, moving between deep howls, harsher higher screams, and larger hardcore-style shouts.

There are moments where shades of No Cure and Harm's Way come through, particularly in the combination of groove and vocal aggression, but Temple Guard don't feel like they're simply copying either band. Their identity comes more from the combination of those metallic hardcore influences with the darker edge-metal atmosphere.

The rhythm section is one of the biggest strengths of Citadel in Flames. The kick drum has an almost chest-caving quality, while the bass consistently provides a thick foundation underneath the guitars. The band aren't afraid to let the low end carry a section instead of immediately filling every second with guitar noise.

“The Weight of Undying Shame” is a strong example of that approach. Sharp thrashy riffing eventually gives way to slower chugs before the entire rhythm section locks into a hypnotic groove. That change in pace gives the song a satisfying sense of movement without requiring anything technically flashy.

This is where Temple Guard understand the fundamentals of heavy hardcore particularly well.

You don't need a complicated riff if the tone is right, the bass is right, the drums hit at the right moment, and the transition creates enough anticipation.

The album's political dimension also gives that heaviness additional purpose. Temple Guard aren't simply using dark imagery as decoration. Their political themes, including references to the mass killing of Palestinians and broader global violence, are embedded into the atmosphere and presentation of the record. The samples reinforce that sense of anger and discomfort, making the album feel like it has something to say beyond “here's another breakdown.”

That matters.

A metallic hardcore record can be physically devastating, but the best ones make the aggression feel like it comes from somewhere.

“A Vanguard Reforged,” featuring xREPENTANCEx, takes the band's aggression even further. The guitars and drums move between faster sections and enormous slower passages before eventually dropping into one of the nastiest breakdowns on the record. The instrumental ideas aren't necessarily revolutionary, and some of the drum patterns feel familiar, but the execution is strong enough that those familiar elements still work.

Temple Guard aren't reinventing metallic hardcore.

They're refining it.

And the record's vocals are one of the clearest places where they add personality. The vocalist moves between deep howls, guttural screams, higher-register vocal fry, rapid shrieks, and traditional hardcore shouting. That variety is important because the underlying guitar language remains fairly consistent.

“Masked Resistance” demonstrates this particularly well. The vocals constantly change alongside the increasingly frantic riffs and heavy drumming, giving the song a sense of instability that keeps it from becoming a predictable breakdown sequence.

That variety also helps tie together the band's different influences. The deeper vocals fit the heavier death-metal-inspired moments, the higher screams reinforce the extreme-metal side, and the traditional hardcore shouting keeps the band connected to their scene.

The guitar work is strongest when Temple Guard slow things down.

“Inquisition’s Wrath” and “Iron Sultanate” lean into ringing notes, abrasive guitar textures, and giant lingering chugs that create a genuinely eerie atmosphere. Rather than rushing through every section, the band lets the guitars hang in the air and allows the low end to build tension.

There are even flashes of thrash and black-metal influence scattered throughout the record. These aren't dominant enough to completely alter the band's identity, but they help keep the guitar work from becoming one-dimensional.

That variety is important because Citadel in Flames does occasionally fall into familiar metallic hardcore territory. The band know the formula extremely well, but there are moments when you can predict where a riff is going before it arrives.

Fortunately, the atmosphere usually makes up for that predictability.

The samples are another interesting part of the album. Some of them can be difficult to hear, which is one of the few production issues I have with the record. When you're using samples to reinforce the political and emotional context of a song, they need to be prominent enough for the listener to understand what they're contributing.

There's also a strange muffled quality to portions of the vocals on “Inquisition’s Wrath.” It may be deliberate, and it does fit the uglier aesthetic of the record, but I don't think it always works. The instrumental sounds huge enough that the vocals occasionally get swallowed rather than becoming another weapon in the mix.

Those are relatively small complaints, though.

The production overall does a good job of making Citadel in Flames feel genuinely heavy. The bass isn't buried, the drums have plenty of physical impact, and the guitars retain their abrasive quality without becoming completely indistinguishable.

Most importantly, the record has weight.

Not just loudness. Not just distortion. Actual weight.

The difference matters.

The slower sections feel heavy because the band allows the rhythm section to breathe. The faster sections feel dangerous because they're contrasted against those slower passages. The breakdowns land harder because the songs actually build toward them rather than immediately throwing them at you.

That becomes particularly noticeable as the album moves toward “The Ascendancy of Cursed Sons.” By this point, Temple Guard have completely established their formula: enormous drums, thick bass, sharp guitars, aggressive vocals, dark atmosphere, and riffs designed to move a room.

The bass is especially impressive here. It sits so low in the mix that you can almost feel the vibrations physically, while the guitars and drums stack on top of it without completely burying it.

That's exactly how a metallic hardcore record should sound.

The main weakness is that a few sections still feel somewhat familiar from a songwriting perspective. There are moments where Temple Guard are clearly operating inside a formula that's been used by countless metallic hardcore bands before them. The difference is that they have enough atmosphere, political purpose, and vocal variety to keep that familiarity from becoming completely boring.

And that's ultimately why Citadel in Flames works.

Temple Guard aren't trying to reinvent the wheel. They're taking the dark, militant energy of 90s edge-metal and combining it with modern hardcore production and a stronger focus on atmosphere.

The result isn't perfect.

Some samples are too buried. A few drum patterns feel generic. Certain vocal moments could have been mixed more clearly. And there are sections where the songwriting could take another step beyond the conventions of metallic hardcore.

But those weaknesses are outweighed by the band's strengths.

The riffs are heavy. The bass is excellent. The drums hit with serious force. The vocals have enough range to keep the record moving. And the atmosphere gives the whole thing a sense of purpose.

Most importantly, Citadel in Flames feels like a record that actually means what it says.

The vegan and political identity isn't simply an aesthetic attached to the music. It becomes part of the record's emotional character, and the band's approach to violence, oppression, and social collapse gives the darker moments more context.

That makes Citadel in Flames feel more substantial than a lot of metallic hardcore records that are simply trying to sound aggressive.

Temple Guard have built something nasty, bleak, and politically conscious without losing the physical energy that makes hardcore work in the first place. They wear their influences openly, but they understand how to combine them into something that feels cohesive.

Citadel in Flames doesn't completely reinvent metallic hardcore.

It doesn't need to.

It just needs to hit hard, create tension, and give the listener something worth thinking about once the breakdowns are over.

Temple Guard accomplish all three.